Wishful Thinking
by PurpleYin
Summary: My response to the SGAHC 5 minute lightbulb challenge. Genhumour with Weir, McKay, Carson and small amounts of others.


Spoilers: S2 Intruder

A/N: Now betaread by Fanwoman (you're the best:)). If it's off the wall it'd be because I wrote it at 3am the other night. :D

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**Wishful Thinking**

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Life on Atlantis was pretty good. She had a little less paperwork now she could delegate certain responsibilities onto new members of the expedition, and she'd even put Caldwell in charge of requisitions since it involved using his ship. It gave the man a sense of usefulness despite the fact he wasn't getting Sheppard's job anytime soon. However, one thing bothered her; it was too dark in her office. Ever since she'd gotten back from Earth, she'd noticed it was subtly different, harder to read things in the dusk and evening light. Finally, she'd figured out why and had been pestering Rodney to sort out the problem. It was really a job for a technician, except, as far as she knew, they'd not had this problem before. Lights all around Atlantis just lit up as necessary, and one suddenly ceasing to do so was unusual.

The first time she'd asked casually. Rodney had muttered something sarcastic about how it was obviously a great mystery and worthy of his time, to which she responded by pointing out the wonders of delegation.

Still, no work crew had turned up, and she'd asked a second time today, only for him to flippantly say he was on it and it'd get done sometime, when they could spare resources. Then he'd carried on with what he was doing, playing with the latest toy. She'd felt mildly insulted that the bulky device on the lab table that no one knew how to activate was of such great importance compared to the welfare of the leader of the expedition and her need to be able to read the countless reports sent to her.

The next time it came to it, Rodney just might find his latest request for equipment loosing its way to Caldwell in time for a run home to Earth, or permission to be assigned to offworld exploration of potential scientific interest might just fall to Lorne's team and Zelenka instead. It wouldn't be any loss to Sheppard, but to Rodney... It was evil to even consider it, but frankly, his insensitivity grated on her nerves, and she didn't feel the compulsion to be forgiving when it was such a_ trivial_ thing. It was rather petty really, but that was what make it right to give him a taste of his own medicine, just in a small enough dose to get to him without seeming entirely like it was planned.

But before she left, she borrowed a pen, the quick scribbling going unnoticed by the gleeful scientists. With a flourish she stuck the post it bang in the middle of the laptop lid. Predictably, she brushed past Sheppard on her way out, giving him a sympathetic smile. As she walked into the distance, she heard the beginnings of a playful argument between the two.

"This is the last place I want to be right now, and incidentally, this is the last thing I want to do! AND you don't even know what it does! But yeah, **_why __not_**, if it blows up, at least I won't have to suffer any more of this..."

She didn't hear much after that, but there was no bang, which was relieving at least. The only other clear noise was John Sheppard stomping down the corridor and eventually, he overtook her in his quest to be as far from his obvious source of frustration as humanly possible.

It was then she decided she wanted a bath. A long relaxing bubble bath, with no paperwork in sight. Somehow, the fact she still had 4 hours of work left conveniently slipped her mind.

So it went that several hours later, after a decent pampering with the products she'd stashed from her recent trip to Earth, she made for her office feeling much better. As she moved along the corridor, she slipped her headset in and immediately Carson Beckett's frantic voice came over the radio. She replied, trying to calm him down and ascertain just what had been going on that was so important.

"Dr Weir! Where have you been? I've been trying to contact you all afternoon. You won't believe what happened."

"I'm sure I will, Carson. Just tell me the details; is there a medical emergency?

"Not really, it's just this latest device, as far as I can see that is, has been making people act a little odd – it seems there are a few people immune to its affects, but mostly, people have been acting like..."

"Like...?" she prompted him for an answer as she walked into the rather empty gateroom, only to be met by something of an answer to that question, as Gregor and Landers waltzed through the opposite doorway. Looking up, she spotted the Canadian manning the gate controls with his feet propped up on the console, enjoying what looked like a martini. Just then, Carson rushed into the gateroom from the corridor off the infirmary and made a beeline towards her.

"Do ya see what I mean now?"

"Is it dangerous? Have you talked to Rodney about the device yet? What did he say?"

"Well, I tried once I realised something was up, but I had to get the information from Kusanagi. Rodney seemed a little – preoccupied. Come on, you'd better see. He's in your office."

Elizabeth followed Carson up the steps cautiously, not quite sure what surprise awaited her. She wondered if she should skirt around the Canadian gate technician, not sure just what this did to those effected, but Carson soon filled her in as he walked briskly towards their destination.

"So far, no one's been violent. They show signs of elevated dopamine among other things, and it seems to have a slightly different effect on everyone - but nothing negative, just mighty strange in some cases. You don't want to know what Stackhouse was doing in the cafeteria. I think someone recorded it, no doubt Zelenka will soon acquire it, but believe me, the curiosity isn't worth watching it for. Not by a long shot. Still, this whole thing isn't too bad; it's quite amusing on Rodney."

As he finished, he stopped walking and crossed his arms. She stepped around him, moving to see just what was so bizarre.

It was her office, alright, but not quite how she'd left it. There were several pieces of equipment she didn't recognise attached to the walls and some extra artwork she had never seen before. Rodney seemed to be putting the finishing touches on some kind of super flexible adjustable wall mounting for her large monitor, which now bounced from side to side as he tested it roughly. Her chair also looked different; it had ergonomic padding and hesitantly, she peered under the desk to look at what other additions there were. That's when she noticed the chair's arm had what looked like a cup holder, and it was on the right, too, the side she used to hold her mug.. It also had extra mechanisms beneath the seat, as if her poor simple, familiar chair had been transformed into a power swizzle chair... She was surprised it didn't have a jet pack attached to the back as well.

She looked back up to Rodney's insanely cheerful face. It was, if possible, worse than the time he'd used the Ancient shield broach. He looked expectantly at her, like he was waiting for a pat on the head. Eyes bright to match his wide grin. She wasn't sure whether she ought to be thankful for post it notes, or not.

All she could say in the face of such enthusiasm, and odd application of his genius, was... "You do realise, all I asked for was to have the light bulb changed, don't you?" with the appropriate eyebrow raise, of course.

Rodney's face fell, and she felt like she'd kicked a puppy. In the background, Carson stifled a rather unmanly combination of giggling and snorting. One thought flashed through her mind, and she glanced up. The damned light **_still_** didn't work.


End file.
